Remembering

Perhaps we fear that by remembering our losses, we'll be unable to move forward.

Another terror attack. For one day or two, the victims will be remembered nationally. And then they will fall from our memory.

Israelis are not encouraged to remember. We have our days of remembrance, but we as a society are commanded to march on, clean up, and above all, go on. I suppose we have to. But, as a result, too many of our victims are forgotten.

We can learn a lesson here from the Palestinians, who are much more relentless about remembering their dead. Though we may argue with who killed Mohamed al-Dura, or the cynical use to which his death has been put, he is not forgotten. The Arabs continue to immortalize him, with his face on postage stamps, his name on a street in Baghdad, and a park in Morocco named after him.

The murder of the Ramallah lynch victims, killed in cold blood by a mob of Palestinian killers, was also televised, yet few Israelis remember their names.

I don't mean to say that we should sensationalize the deaths of the victims, or manipulate them for world opinion, like the Palestinians do so well. I am talking about the pure act of remembering.

The teacher thought my son should be in school, not home tending his psychic wounds.

Children are taught not to remember. My 13-year-old son's teacher called the day before his brother Koby's yahrtzeit to ask why he wasn't in school that day. Never mind that I'd had a personal conference with the teacher to explain to him that this was a difficult time of year for all of us (Koby and his friend Yosef were brutally murdered by Palestinians) and he should be aware of the special circumstances. Never mind that the teacher knew we were all visiting the cemetery that day. The teacher thought my son should be in school, not home tending his psychic wounds.

Communities are not encouraged to remember. When we asked the Society for the Preservation of Nature to dedicate in memory of the boys the project they are currently working on in our community, we were told that they will not, as a matter of policy, make remembrances to victims.

Another example: The city of Jerusalem rushed to commemorate the victims of 9/11, while the families of the victims of Jerusalem's bombs attacks have struggled to get the city to even put up a plaque in their children's memories.

Every corner could host a memorial.

Perhaps we fear that if we remember all our losses, we will be unable to move forward, to act productively -- to live. Every corner could host a memorial. So not remembering becomes a survival strategy. Perhaps the collective memory of the Holocaust is so overpowering that we as a nation have decided not to visit our losses and pain.

But when we don't remember the victims, we consign their deaths to oblivion and meaninglessness. It slices my heart when people say to me that Koby's death is senseless. It is senseless only if we don't remember it; only if don't use it to make meaning. Then mourning becomes a kind of hell.

Judaism is a religion that is forged on a national memory of the Exodus when we were released from slavery and given the opportunity to forge a national identify based on recognizing God. We continually remember the Holy Temple and our bonds to Jerusalem. Keeping that memory alive is what has tied us to Israel throughout the millennia.

Our task of forging a nation continues. But for memory to animate us, we need to recognize that our losses in these past years are part of our national struggle. We must weave that meaning and the memory of the dead together in our lives. We should ask ourselves and others -- in Israel and in the Jewish diaspora -- to issue postage stamps, and name streets, and parks and schools and good works in their names.

Remembering the victims not only gives them the respect they deserve, and their families some solace, but it can give all of us courage as well. Remembering means that we participate in the stories of loss not as voyeurs, but as participants of a national history. By granting the victims' lives visibility and meaning, we redeem their stories -- and our own.

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About the Author

Sherri Mandell is the author of "Writers of the Holocaust," and author of the forthcoming book (Sept. ༿) "The Blessing of a Broken Heart" (Toby Press). She and her husband are founders of The Koby Mandell Foundation (www.kobymandell.org), dedicated to creating programs that help children and families struck by tragedy.

Visitor Comments: 9

I will never forget your dear Koby, or you or your family..I'm not Jewish, I am human and American, and I won't forget. Your story has changed me in a great way.

(8)
Sarah Sapper,
July 3, 2003 12:00 AM

As Zanvy said at the memorial at HDS, Koby and Yosef's deaths are only senseless if we make them that way. Our job is to make them meaningful by always remembering and by having the courage not to be paralyzed. Their memory must give us the courage to do and accomplish.

(7)
raye,
June 25, 2003 12:00 AM

We must not forget to remember

If the Palestinians can commemorate their "murderers" (i.e. suicide bombers), why should we not have some sort of symbol of remembrance for our innocent victims.

(6)
Tobias Irwin,
June 17, 2003 12:00 AM

Memory is essential to our survival

Dear Sherri
Your courage is a bracha to Klal Yisroel, may the Kobi Mandell Foundation go from strength to strength. It takes effort to remember, thats why so few people do. I will undertake a daily effort to remember our lost and our bereaved. We can gain strength and clarity by remembering our lost brothers and sisters. We must also remember the ambivelance and in some cases the hate that the world has for Jews...the brutality of those who seek to destroy us. Palestinians remember in order to add fuel to the fires of their brutality, to justify their evil. We remember in order to heal, in order to unify as a nation, in order strengthen our love of our fellow Jews. May you have many brachas in your important work.

(5)
Dorit Ernst,
June 16, 2003 12:00 AM

Thanks!

You are right!! And, as Boris Jovanovich says, I also believe that GOD does remember - and the history of the Jewish people as well as the remembrance lies in HIS hands. HE will help you through, in your future as well.

GOD bless you.

(4)
Leah Krieger,
June 16, 2003 12:00 AM

We will never forget Koby Mandell

His picture is etched in my heart forever. And, yes, I do agree that we should have memorials in memory of the victims and good works in their name.

(3)
Denise Rootenberg,
June 16, 2003 12:00 AM

Sherri, I agree with you

It's only by reading the names and stories of the victims every time we have one of these tragedies that the full force of it strikes me and I can mourn as if I knew them. I often go to One Family's website to look at the photos and cry at the stories. By remembering each individual martyr we ensure that their deaths were not "senseless".
I recognise your and your son's names instantly so your efforts to keep his memory alive have succeeded.

(2)
Boris Jovanovich,
June 15, 2003 12:00 AM

Memory

Dear Sherri Mandell
I pray to G-D to bless you for the work you do.People like you make nation of Israel to look up to you,because of your tremendus love for your G-d and people.People which has past due to this war, and all other people will forget, but the Living G-D shal not forget as it is stated in psalm:-"We are just like popy flower in field and the wind blows on us,and soon ther are no more trace of it ,ewen the relatives forgot about them but the Living God rembers each of us what we had in our hearts."And that is what makes us strong because each of you outh there you are foundation to our tomorow.And then if you compare any nation today to Israel.No one has a foundation like Israel,no one.......

regards from Boris

(1)
Leigh Moore,
June 15, 2003 12:00 AM

I agree...

Sherri, I have right here beside me on my wall faces of each victim brutally murdered at the hands of terrorists. It is a poster from OneFamily.org and I cherish it. Yes... I fill up with as I see the faces and recognize some of the many stories including your precious son Koby. Noam and Matan and their mother Revital who went to her death protecting her babies, Avi Weiss... and many many more that I have come to ... remember! Thank you for your story.

I'm told that it's a mitzvah to become intoxicated on Purim. This puzzles me, because to my understanding, it is not considered a good thing to become intoxicated, period.

One of the characteristics of the at-risk youth is their use of drugs, including alcohol. In my experience, getting drunk doesn't reveal secrets. It makes people act stupid and irresponsible, doing things they would never do if they were sober. Also, I know a lot about the horrible health effects of abusing alcohol, because I work at a research center that focuses on addiction and substance abuse.

Also, I am an alcoholic, which means that if I drink, very bad things happen. I have not had a drink in 22 years, and I have no intention of starting now. Surely there must be instances where a person is excused from the obligation to drink. I don't see how Judaism could ever promote the idea of getting drunk. It just doesn't seem right.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Putting aside for a moment all the spiritual and philosophical reasons for getting drunk on Purim, this remains an issue of common sense. Of course, teenagers should be warned of the dangers of acute alcohol ingestion. Of course, nobody should drink and drive. Of course, nobody should become so drunk to the point of negligence in performing mitzvot. And of course, a recovering alcoholic should not partake of alcohol on Purim.

Indeed, the Code of Jewish Law explicitly says that if one suspects the drinking may affect him negatively, then he should NOT drink.

Getting drunk on Purim is actually one of the most difficult mitzvot to do correctly. A person should only drink if it will lead to positive spiritual results - e.g. under the loosening affect of the alcohol, greater awareness will surface of the love for God and Torah found deep in the heart. (Perhaps if we were on a higher spiritual level, we wouldn't need to get drunk!)

Yet the Talmud still speaks of an obligation on Purim of "not knowing the difference between Blessed is Mordechai and Cursed is Haman." How then should a person who doesn't drink get the point of “not knowing”? Simple - just go to sleep! (Rama - OC 695:2)

All this applies to individuals. But the question remains - does drinking on Purim adversely affect the collective social health of the Jewish community?

The aversion to alcoholism is engrained into Jewish consciousness from a number of Biblical and Talmudic sources. There are the rebuking words of prophets - Isaiah 28:1, Hosea 3:1 with Rashi, and Amos 6:6, and the Zohar says that "The wicked stray after wine" (Midrash Ne'alam Parshat Vayera).

It is well known that the rate of alcoholism among Jews has historically been very low. Numerous medical, psychological and sociological studies have confirmed this. The connection between Judaism and sobriety is so evident, that the following conversation is reported by Lawrence Kelemen in "Permission to Receive":

When Dr. Mark Keller, editor of the Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol, commented that "practically all Jews do drink, and yet all the world knows that Jews hardly ever become alcoholics," his colleague, Dr. Howard Haggard, director of Yale's Laboratory of Applied Physiology, jokingly proposed converting alcoholics to the Jewish religion in order to immerse them in a culture with healthy attitudes toward drinking!

Perhaps we could suggest that it is precisely because of the use of alcohol in traditional ceremonies (Kiddush, Bris, Purim, etc.), that Jews experience such low rates of alcoholism. This ceremonial usage may actually act like an inoculation - i.e. injecting a safe amount that keeps the disease away.

Of course, as we said earlier, all this needs to be monitored with good common sense. Yet in my personal experience - having been in the company of Torah scholars who were totally drunk on Purim - they acted with extreme gentleness and joy. Amid the Jewish songs and beautiful words of Torah, every year the event is, for me, very special.

Adar 12 marks the dedication of Herod's renovations on the second Holy Temple in Jerusalem in 11 BCE. Herod was king of Judea in the first century BCE who constructed grand projects like the fortresses at Masada and Herodium, the city of Caesarea, and fortifications around the old city of Jerusalem. The most ambitious of Herod's projects was the re-building of the Temple, which was in disrepair after standing over 300 years. Herod's renovations included a huge man-made platform that remains today the largest man-made platform in the world. It took 10,000 men 10 years just to build the retaining walls around the Temple Mount; the Western Wall that we know today is part of that retaining wall. The Temple itself was a phenomenal site, covered in gold and marble. As the Talmud says, "He who has not seen Herod's building, has never in his life seen a truly grand building."

Some people gauge the value of themselves by what they own. But in reality, the entire concept of ownership of possessions is based on an illusion. When you obtain a material object, it does not become part of you. Ownership is merely your right to use specific objects whenever you wish.

How unfortunate is the person who has an ambition to cleave to something impossible to cleave to! Such a person will not obtain what he desires and will experience suffering.

Fortunate is the person whose ambition it is to acquire personal growth that is independent of external factors. Such a person will lead a happy and rewarding life.

With exercising patience you could have saved yourself 400 zuzim (Berachos 20a).

This Talmudic proverb arose from a case where someone was fined 400 zuzim because he acted in undue haste and insulted some one.

I was once pulling into a parking lot. Since I was a bit late for an important appointment, I was terribly annoyed that the lead car in the procession was creeping at a snail's pace. The driver immediately in front of me was showing his impatience by sounding his horn. In my aggravation, I wanted to join him, but I saw no real purpose in adding to the cacophony.

When the lead driver finally pulled into a parking space, I saw a wheelchair symbol on his rear license plate. He was handicapped and was obviously in need of the nearest parking space. I felt bad that I had harbored such hostile feelings about him, but was gratified that I had not sounded my horn, because then I would really have felt guilty for my lack of consideration.

This incident has helped me to delay my reactions to other frustrating situations until I have more time to evaluate all the circumstances. My motives do not stem from lofty principles, but from my desire to avoid having to feel guilt and remorse for having been foolish or inconsiderate.

Today I shall...

try to withhold impulsive reaction, bearing in mind that a hasty act performed without full knowledge of all the circumstances may cause me much distress.

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